Spiraling
by Pataki-Shortman
Summary: Life has gotten pretty good for 18 year old Helga, but one day after school she realizes it was all a facade. Needing an escape she runs into Arnold, who is no longer the boy who saw the good in everyone and everything that she loved so much as a child. They quickly spiral into a life of alcohol, drugs, and sex.
1. Chapter 1

**Spiraling**

Summary: Life has gotten pretty good for 18 year old Helga, but one day after school she realizes it was all a facade. Needing an escape she runs into Arnold, who is no longer the boy who saw the good in everyone and everything that she loved so much as a child. They quickly spiral into a life of alcohol, drugs, and sex.

 **Warnings:** Course language, sex, drinking, and drug use.

 **Spiraling Part Prologue**

 **Eighteen** year old Helga Pataki used the back of her hand to wipe away tears as she took the steps from her home to the street two at a time. She never thought her day would end like this. That morning—Hell that week— _that_ month had been completely normal at home. Once a week her mom would try out a new recipe that she found online. After Miriam joined AA the summer after Helga turned 10 she quickly discovered her mother was actually a pretty good cook when she was sober. Bob would be home from the store every night in time for a family dinner. Except on Wednesdays. That night was reserved for meetings with clients and suppliers.

After Miriam joined AA and entered rehab for the first stretch of her sobriety the family began therapy. And it worked. It really worked. Bob and Miriam quickly started to work on making up for the years of neglect Helga had suffered. They relinquished the obscene amount of pressure they had put on Olga for years. They actually became a family.

At least that's what Helga had thought.

It was Thursday and she was about to enter a three day weekend. She had a longer track practice because of it. She didn't get home until nearly seven. That's when she found her mother passed out on the couch drunk. Clutching a half empty vodka bottle in one hand and a hand written note from Bob in the other. Of course, Helga read it.

 _Miriam,_

 _You know I'm no good with words and there is no easy way to tell you this, so I'm just going to come out with it. I've met someone. A long time ago actually. I stayed longer than I should have. But you just quit drinking and you were working so hard on your sobriety and there was so much I had to make up to the girls. Helga especially. Things are different now. You've been sober nearly eight years now and Helga is about to graduate. Claire got a job offer out of state. I'm going with her. I'm so sorry. I just know you'll be okay. I think we both know we haven't been happy for a long, long time. I'm sorry I told you like this, but I just couldn't do it in person. Tell Helga I love her. We'll figure out the divorce stuff soon._

 _-Bob_

And just like that the one big happy family façade that the Pataki's had been living was shattered. After nearly eight years of sobriety Miriam got wasted and Bob was gone, leaving Helga and her mother heartbroken in his wake. Helga dropped the note, flung the glass bottle of vodka against the wall smashing it thousands of tiny glass shards. When the noise didn't even cause her mother to flinch she bailed. Running out of house as fast as her legs could take her. Which was pretty damn fast, after all she had broken six school records, three state, and one national record in track.

She wasn't really paying attention to where she was going when she rounded the corner, running directly into someone. The force of which sent them both flying into a heap of tangled limbs onto the pavement of the sidewalk.

"What the hell? Would you watch where the fuck you're going?" A man's voice hissed as he scrambled to his feet.

"Sorry Arnold." Helga apologized without looking up. She sat up, quickly swiping away tears with her palm. "I wasn't looking where I was going." She looked down, avoiding Arnold's intense stare. The last thing she needed was for Arnold to give her shit for crying. Out of their old gang it was Arnold who had changed the most. Not that she could blame him. He experienced a lot of tragedy in his young life. He had suffered more loss than anyone else they went to school with.

Things had been really looking up for both of them the summer after fifth grade. Miriam was in rehab and Arnold's parents were back in his life! When their class won a trip to San Lorenzo Helga, Phoebe, and Gerald made it their mission to help Arnold find his parents. Arnold had admitted to Helga early on that he was sure they were dead, but he still wanted to know what happened to them. Knowing they were dead was better than not knowing what happened to them. Against all odds they were alive! The reunion between Arnold and his parents was beautiful and completely perfect.

If only if could have lasted.

In the cruelest twist of fate Miles and Stella Shortman were killed in a car accident barely a month after returning to Hillwood.

Arnold was obliviously devastated. As were his grandparents. That was the start of Arnold's downward spiral. The boy who once had the patience of saint was now quick to anger. The boy who was once a friend to all was replaced with a boy who kept everyone—except a very select few—at arm's length. Junior year both of his grandparents died within a few short months of each other. He ended up being emancipated; he had been taking care of his grandparents more than they took care of him the past couple years. Though he was seventeen, he proved to the courts that he was perfectly capable to live on his own.

Things got worse from there. Any sweetness Arnold had left in him was officially bitter. He was rude, mean, and kind of an asshole. He started hanging out with an older crowd, one that liked to party. It was no secret Arnold spent his weekends drinking and smoking weed.

Arnold raised an eyebrow, which was now pierced, "You should probably leave your runs on the track Helga. You might hurt yourself…Or the person you run into." He sounded angry, yet he was smirking. He offered her a hand, helping her to her feet. "Where are you off too in such a hurry anyway?"

"Nowhere." Helga's eyes shifted down, blinking away tears.

"Nowhere, huh?" Arnold crossed his arms, leaning against the brick wall of Green Meats. He took a look towards the direction Helga was coming from, "Was anyone chasing you?"

"What? No! Why would you ask that?" Helga's head snapped up, looking at Arnold in surprise. She watched him as his fingers brushed his shaggy blonde hair away from his face before shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans that had various holes in them.

"Because you were sprinting down the street like you were in the middle of track meet." His eyes locked with hers, almost immediately noticing they were red and blotchy. "Have you been crying? I'm pretty sure I broke your fall. It couldn't have hurt that bad."

"Don't sweat it Arnold. I'm fine. Sorry I ran into you." She was about to walk away, but Arnold blocked her path. She released an annoyed sigh, "What do you want Arnold?"

"Can't I just be a concerned friend?"

"Are you?" Helga raised an eyebrow. "I don't think we've been friends for a while now. When's the last time you've actually talked to me?"

Arnold shrugged, "Come on now, you know how high school is…People drift apart." He looked genuine, but sounded sarcastic. He sighed, "Look, there's such a small window during the day when I'm not a complete dick…Just trying to help, but if you don't want to talk I'll just be on my way…" He waited a moment, but Helga said nothing. "Alright. Have a nice night." He got three steps away before Helga's voice stopped him.

"When I got home from track practice I found my mom passed out on the couch. She was drunk." Arnold turned to her, just in time to see tears filling the corners of her eyes, "She almost made it eight years." He watched her as she wiped her tears away before they could fall. "My dad left. Apparently he's been having an affair for quite some time." She sniffled, "So yeah…I'm having pretty shitty night."

"I'm sorry. That _really_ fucking sucks." For the first time that night Arnold truly sounded genuine. There was no sarcasm or malice that Helga could detect in his tone. He pulled her into an awkward hug and for a moment he felt like the old Arnold.

Helga nodded into his shoulder, surprised how soft his vintage Led Zeppelin shirt felt against her skin. "I just want to forget everything that happened tonight." She admitted as she pulled away from the hug.

Arnold's lips twitched into a small smile. "I actually have an idea that could make that happen." He cleared his throat, "I'm having a few friends over tonight for a party…You should come."

Helga bit her lip, unsure. She wasn't really a partier. If her coach found out she was drinking she could get pulled form a track meet. Then there was the fact she had an alcoholic mother who just fell off the wagon.

"You don't have to drink or anything if you don't want to." Arnold told her. "My friends aren't really into that whole peer pressure bullshit. You can just hang out with us. We're pretty fun people." He shrugged, "It will at least get you out of your house for the night."

That caught her attention, "Yeah." She forced a smile, "That sounds good. Let's party."

* * *

 _Author's Note:_ I'm going tell you now, Arnold and Helga make some really poor and reckless decisions in this. They both make a lot of mistakes. I think it's something that some people do when they are sad or angry. So if you're looking for a fan fiction with a couple of Mary Sue's this isn't it. Saying that, I hope you enjoy this alternative portrayal of both Arnold and Helga. Next chapter will be Arnold's party and will be longer than this prologue. Please review if you enjoyed the prologue!

Also, for those of you reading Secrets or Priceless…Don't worry I'm still working on those. I'm hoping to do a rotation of all three stories to avoid any writer's block.


	2. Chapter 2

**Spiraling Part One**

 **Arnold** Shortman watched Helga out of the corner of his eye as they made the short walk to the boarding house. (He and everyone else still referred to the building as the boarding house or Sunset Arms, even though there hadn't been any boarders there for three years.) He ignored the fact his heart was starting to beat faster. It had been a long time since he was this close to Helga. At school he always found himself searching for Helga and more specifically her pink bow. She still wore it every day, though never in the traditional bow on the top her head like she did in grade school. Looking for the bow became his own private game of Where's Waldo. The day before she wore it around her neck, as a choker, today she wore it around her hairband. The bow was tied underneath her ponytail rather than on top of her head.

Arnold's eyes scanned over Helga's profile. He had always been attracted to Helga's sense of style ever since she ditched the oversized, baggy t shirts and jeans. She now sported this look that he would call grunge meets punk meets biker chic. She was still wearing the same outfit she had worn to school; a pair a clunky heeled leather boots that reached her calves, black tights with a floral print on them, a pair of acid washed jean shorts, a plain black top that showed just a sliver of stomach if she lifted her arms under a black and grey plaid flannel long sleeved shirt that was unbuttoned and reached nearly the length of her shorts. Despite the flannel shirt being several sizes too big she looked cool…She looked sexy.

He remembered how Rhonda Lloyd used to make fun of Helga's wardrobe mainly because Helga shopped at thrift stores. That quickly changed when Helga showed up at a school dance wearing a vintage Channel dress that she had gotten shockingly cheap at one of her favorite thrift stores. Rhonda had begged Helga to take her shopping. Helga told her no and it was glorious.

Helga didn't say anything during their walk and Arnold didn't try to make conversation. He figured she needed space and if she wanted to talk she'd say something. He wasn't going to push. He absolutely hated it when people tried to get him to talk through his feelings after his parents and grandparents died. He didn't want to talk! What he wanted was to be left the hell alone. No amount of talking would bring them back anyway, so what was the point?

He jogged up his stoops steps ahead of Helga, unlocking the door before holding it open for her. "Are you hungry?"

"I guess." Helga knew she should be hungry. It was nearly eight, she hadn't eaten anything since lunch, and just finished with an extra-long track practice. But after everything that went down with her parents she didn't have much of an appetite.

"I'll order us a pizza. People don't usually start showing up until after nine." He pulled his flip phone out of his pocket and searched through his contacts. "Peperoni okay?" She nodded. As Arnold ordered the pizza Helga unzipped her boot, taking them off and placing them near the door. "Here, I'll put those in the closet." He grabbed the boots and placed them in the closet that was just off the front door. He kicked off his own shoes into the closet before shutting the door. "My friends are cool and all, but sometimes they bring randoms and things tend to disappear. The guy said the pizza should be here in like twenty minutes."

Helga only nodded. She didn't really know what to say to Arnold anymore. It had been so long since they actually had a real conversation that didn't go outside of giving her condolences, school crap, or telling him to stop being such a dick. "I didn't bring any money." She finally remarked, just realizing all she had with her were the clothes on her back and her Motorola Razr in her shorts pocket.

Arnold shrugged, "Don't worry about it. You want to something to drink? I have water, milk, soda, beer…Pretty much every hard liquor you can think of." He listed off the beverages, "I have the powder shit to make lemonade."

"I'll try a beer." Helga requested, suddenly feeling bold.

"Try one?" Arnold raised an eyebrow, "You've never had beer before?"

"Well Coach Wittenberg is always up our asses about partying and drinking. I didn't want risk being booted off the team." She explained as she followed him to the kitchen. Then there was the fact she never had the desire to drink. Spending years watching Miriam completely out of it left little to be desired when it came to alcohol.

"So you're not worried about that anymore?" Arnold asked as he rummaged through the refrigerator for a moment before retrieving two cans of lite beer. He handed her one before opening his own. He chuckled when she made a face as she took her first drink. "I hated my first ever drink of beer too. At least try to give it a can."

"I don't really care anymore. There's six weeks of school left. I don't give a shit if I get kicked off the team." She took another drink, despite hating the taste. "So…How many people are coming tonight?"

Arnold shrugged, "It's hard to say. Sometimes five. Sometimes twenty or more. It just depends on what everyone has going on. When there's a good concert in the area I don't get a lot of people." He dug into his pocket, grabbing out a bag of weed and tossing it on the counter. "I'm going to roll a few while we wait for the pizza."

Helga avoided looking at him. Seeing him roll joints felt so odd. It felt so Un-Arnold. She scratched her knee through her tights, realizing he hadn't been that Arnold in a long, long time. "I need to go to the bathroom." She told him, slipping her flannel top off and draping it over the chair she has just been sitting in. "Bathroom still third door on the right?" She asked dumbly.

"Nah, I actually moved it to the second." He shot her a sarcastic smirk before returning his attention back rolling his blunts.

"Ha—ha." Helga rolled her eyes as she exited the kitchen. With her back turned she didn't see it when Arnold tore his eyes away from his weed to her back end. Though she looked cute as hell that day, the baggy flannel shirt she had been wearing covered up one of Arnold's favorite physical features of Helga's. She had a truly amazing ass. He watched her until disappeared from sight.

After relieving herself and washing her hands Helga looked at reflection in the mirror. She groaned, her eyes were slightly bloodshot and puffy from crying. Sighing, she twisted on the faucet and splashed some water on her face. She pulled her out hairband along with the pink bow that was tied around it. She shoved the hairband into her jean shorts pocket and after some awkward movements tied the pink ribbon into a bow around her wrist. Wetting her hands she combed her fingers through her hair.

Sighing heavily, she made her way back to the kitchen where she found Arnold setting a couple paper plates onto the kitchen table. Arnold frowned when he saw that her hair was down and her bow was no longer tie in her hair. "Where's your bow?"

Helga lifted her right wrist, blushing slightly. "I didn't know you took that much notice of me…To my bow, I mean."

"You've been wearing your bow forever. It's hard not to notice." He paused. It was his turn to blush, "Come on…Helga without her bow is like breathing without oxygen."

Helga's blush deepened, but she said nothing. Instead she opted to take several large gulps from her beer can. The taste was slowly growing on her. After a long moment of silence, she finally spoke. "Are you getting excited to graduate?"

"Fuck yes." Graduation was only six weeks away. It was so close, he could taste it. "It can't come fast enough. I can't wait to be done with that place." He leaned against the kitchen island, "How about you? Are you looking forward to it?"

"Yeah…I'm going to miss track though. I'm gonna have to keep up with my workout routine on my own, so that might be hard. It's kinda weird that this will be our last real summer before we're adults and have actual responsibilities." She finished off her beer. "Can I have another one?"

Arnold chuckled, nodding. "I always knew there was a party girl somewhere in you."

 **A** few hours later Helga felt drunk. She was relieved Arnold had ordered that pizza, otherwise she'd be much tipsier than she already was. He had smaller crowd show up that night. Only eight people and as far as Helga could tell they were all pretty cool and not complete burnouts like she had originally imagined.

She stumbled into the living room where Arnold and two of his friends sat, a fresh can of beer in her hand. They were passing a joint around. She made her way to Arnold, who was sitting in an oversized arm chair. "Are you going to make room for me?"

Arnold smirked, scooting over. "You having fun?"

Helga plopped down onto the chair, sitting sideways. Her butt sitting between the arm of the chair and Arnold's leg. Her legs draped over his. "Yeah. Turns out I like beer."

"It's nice to let lose sometimes, isn't it?" Arnold asked as his friend Kevin passed him the joint. He took a hit before passing it over Helga's head to Jeff.

She wasn't sure she liked the feeling that was bubbling up inside her. It felt reckless…It felt dangerous. It felt oddly exciting.

"Hey! Isn't it my turn?" Her lips fell into a pout. "Why did you skip me?"

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Arnold asked. "You don't want to go too crazy tonight, do you?"

Helga rolled her eyes, snatching the joint away from before Jeff could take it. Placing the joint between her lips she inhaled a quick deep breath, immediately going into a coughing fit as her lungs burned. She passed the joint off to Jeff as Arnold patted her back. "That was terrible."

"We've all been there. It takes some practice." He continued to pat her back, "Take a drink. That will help."

By the time Helga recovered the joint was being passed to Arnold. He took a long drag. "You ready to try again?"

"Yeah…" Helga took the joint between two fingers a little more hesitantly this time.

"To start off take small hits. It won't burn your throat as badly." Arnold instructed, his hand on her knee, squeezing slightly.

Helga followed his instructions. This time there was hardly any burning in her throat or lungs. She exhaled, a puff of smoke escaping her lips. "Much better." Feeling bold (and drunk), she reached her arm around Arnold's neck, her fingers caressing it softly. Arnold grinned, his hand venturing slightly further up her leg.

 **It** was after two in the morning when Arnold's last guest (other than Helga) left the boarding house, leaving Helga and Arnold to themselves. By that time they were drunk, stoned, _and_ stupid so they thought it was a good idea as they stumbled up the stairs to Arnold's bedroom, stopping periodically to kiss.

The moment the stepped into his bedroom Arnold pulled Helga's top over her head, discarding the garment over his shoulder. He unclasped her bra as he walked her backwards to his bed. "So pretty…" He slurred after pulling her bra away from breasts. He couldn't help but touch the mounds that first just perfectly into his hands.

Helga moaned as her hands clumsily unbuttoned his pants before pulling at the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head. Arnold pulled down his jeans and boxers as Helga climbed unto his bed, pulling off her own shorts, tights, and underwear.

"Fuck Helga…You're so hot." Arnold cursed, softly nipping at the skin of her collar bone. "So fucking sexy." His hand reached between her legs and watched her eyes close and head roll back as he pushed a finger into her slick folds. He added a second digit as his right hand blindly reached for a condom that was in a draw above his bed. Both of their judgments completely clouded from booze and weed as they began to have sex, neither of them caring if they regretted it when they were sober later that morning.


End file.
